


...I'm Dead

by Alex_Write



Series: Spideypool Fics [7]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, But I can't help but write it like that, First Meetings, First Words, I'll add more tags as I think of them (probably...maybe), M/M, Maybe fluff, Peter and Wade are too hard on themselves, Temporary Character Death, i like the fluff, normal Deadpool tags, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-09-28 06:48:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20421698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alex_Write/pseuds/Alex_Write
Summary: Based on prompt #473 on tumblr by spideypool-promptsAt 13, people get their SoulMarks on some part of their body (usually their wrist). Peter's is "Hi, I'm Dead". Thus starts the story of the two getting their marks and how they find each other.(A/N: Yes, another SoulMate fic. I know, I know, it's an over used theme for basically every fandom out there. However, i still find myself reading them and liking them, and they are fun to write.)





	1. Getting their Marks

**Author's Note:**

> Let me start by saying: Thank you for reading!
> 
> For those of you who are familiar with my works already, you might have noticed that I haven't really written anything in a while. Sadly between school, work and kids I just hadn't had the time. Well, I've officially graduated with my Bachelors degree so I'm looking at trying to write more again as I really do love it. However, since I'm not in the habit anymore (boo) it means I'm not writing as quickly as I was or as much in one sitting. So this fic will be broken up into multiple SMALL chapters and sadly I can't say how frequently/regularly I'll update it. It shouldn't be a long fic by any means, though. I'm thinking only maybe 3-4 small chapters in length. Hopefully everyone will stick with me as I work through his and get back into the grove of writing once more.

When Peter turned thirteen he, like the mass majority of all people had done and will do, stayed up eagerly through the night, nervous and staring at his wrist. No one knew why it happened when a person turned thirteen, but everyone knew that was when one's SoulMark would appear. The mark was always words; to be more precise it was always the first words that a person's SoulMate spoke to them. Normally the mark appeared on a person's wrist, but it wasn't uncommon for the mark to appear somewhere else for longer greetings or phrases.

The biggest recorded SoulMark on record was one that had appeared on Marco Riveras's back. Spanning from the hairline on his neck to just above his tailbone, Marco's SoulMate had gifted him with a long and rambling speech about idiot drivers who didn't use their blinkers for his Mark. Needless to say, for him, it had been easy to recognize who his SoulMate was. His SoulMate's mark had been three words, “Please be quiet”.

Other people had more common things, making it harder to recognize their SoulMate when they met. “Hello”, “Hi, “Excuse me” and the like were frowned upon Marks if only because they were so common. Often times, people with those marks tried to compensate for their simplicity by greeting everyone that ran into with something off the wall, interesting, or at least unique in hopes that their SoulMate would be better equipped to recognize them.

At the stroke of midnight, Peter was holding his breath with his fingers crossed that his mark would be Unique. Ever since his parents had passed, Peter had looked forward to meeting his SoulMate with a new outlook. At first it had been such a childish thing, wanting to meet them so they could live happily ever after. Like some fairytale that his parents read him before sending him off to bed. With their deaths though, it had turned into a need to belong to someone. He'd belonged to his parents, they were his parents and he was their kid, and May and Ben were great after his parents had died, but they just weren't _his_. He figured though his _SoulMate_...well there was no doubt that they'd belong to each other.

Taking a deep breath, Peter checked his wrist once again. He'd been starting at it off and on since he'd headed off to bed to pretend to sleep, but he'd known then that he wouldn't find anything. Now, though...now was the real deal.

With wide eyes he watched as his Mark slow bled into his skin, at first such a pale white that he couldn't quite see it, and then slowly darkening to gray and then the inky black of a fully formed Mark. All at once the air rushed out of him, eyes blinking rapidly as if doing so could change what he was seeing even as his shoulders drooped in resignation.

“Hello, I'm Dead”

Either his SoulMate was insane and needed to be locked up to get help they desperately needed, or Peter was doomed to meet his SoulMate while they were dying. Either way, Peter was still going to be alone. He'd either be cut off from his SoulMate due to mental illness, or he'd only have met them long enough to watch them die.

* * *

“Oh Shunk! Are you okay?”

When Wade turned 13 he'd been resigned to being cursed with a SoulMark. He had been so sure that there was no way that he'd have anything nice on his wrist. In fact, with his luck he was half convinced that his Mark would be a long winded rant about how awful he was and wouldn't even fit on his wrist anyway. His dad sure did like to point out that not even his SoulMate would be able to love him, after all.

Seeing those words, though, was like a breath of fresh air. His SoulMate sounded innocent, they couldn't even curse right. And they'd be worried _for_ him. They seemed nice, and part of him wasn't sure that they deserved to be punished by being chained to the likes of him.

Even at thirteen he knew that he wasn't headed anywhere good. He had too many bad habits. In an attempt to stay out of the house as much as possible, he was hanging out with the wrong kinds of people. He had hurt other people to keep his mind off the fact that his father hurt him. He knew that already he was too good with a gun, and found too much enjoyment with using blades, for it to mean anything good for his future.

With those words though he decided something else. Even if he wasn't going to be a decent person, he was going to be a good SoulMate. He'd join the military to get away from his dad as soon as he could. He'd use his skills to do good, to make the world a little safer for his SoulMate even if it meant killing everyone else. He'd protect that innocent person with his dying breath, even if it meant that he'd bleed the world dry and stain himself red. His SoulMate may never love him, but he knew then and there that he'd love his SoulMate.

Tracing the words wrapped around his wrist became his new habit. It was what he grounded himself with, how he kept calm and reminded him why he was doing what he was doing. Those five words were what he started his day with, and what he ended his night with. When he joined the military, it hadn't taken long for everyone to realize that when he was focused on those words were when he was at his most deadly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I really don't like this chapter. I have big ideas of the end (where they actually meet), but getting them from the first part of the story (getting their Marks and their thoughts) through getting their powers and how it changes them...yeah I was at a loss. So I apologize now if this is complete crap. Seriously.
> 
> Also I apologize for any typos. I wrote this pre-coffee and haven't actually proof-read it yet. I'll probably look it over again later this week, but I wanted to get something up sooner rather than later. If you see anything glaringly obvious typo wise please let me know. I'm trying to keep everything straight, but without about four cups of coffee in me I'm basically useless.

When Peter became Spiderman, he gained a whole new perspective on his Mark. On one hand, it was a relief. If his SoulMate was dead, then they wouldn't be able to be hurt by his Spiderman activities. It wouldn't be like with his Aunt May who he worried about constantly every time he put someone down and the police took them away. On the other hand, there was the worry that his SoulMate would die because of who he was. After all, they were dying when he met them.

It also crossed his mind that it would be one of the bad guys that ended up saying his words. While he didn't condone killing, and definitly didn't set out to do it, he knew that there was always the chance that when he went up against someone knew that something might happen. He was stronger than the average person – he could lift buildings, after all – there was always the chance that he'd underestimate himself and an accident would happen. It was something he was constantly worried about in his normal day to day life, especially since he knew he had to be careful to hide it completely.

In the end, Peter pushed it aside. He had a responsibility to his city and his worries and fears couldn't hold sway over him.

He figured out how to juggle working, his side job, and his nightly and weekend patrols of the city. In what little spare time he had, he spent time with his friends and working on training himself. Despite the fact that he had become stronger and more flexible over night, he knew that he still needed to work on it. Fighting didn't come naturally to him, and he happily studied and watch people fighting as well as gymnastics to try and learn as much as he could on his own.

By the time that he graduated high school he still hadn't met his SoulMate. The majority of his classmates already had, as was common, but he wasn't surprised and was honestly a little relieved. Maybe, due to his Spiderman activities, he just wouldn't meet his SoulMate at all. Maybe he wouldn't have to worry about them dying because he was making a difference. Maybe now his SoulMate wasn't going to die...though that also made him wonder if he even had a SoulMate anymore now.

* * *

The cancer had changed everything for Wade. He'd already know that he wasn't fit to be with his SoulMate, he'd done too many bad things and was generally just not a good enough of a person for the innocent that was his SoulMate. When he'd reached his mid-twenties without having heard the words of his Mark, he'd been relieved and disappointed. Part of him had looked forward to the one innocent, bright thing in his life. The larger part of him was relieved that he wouldn't be able to corrupt it.

With his skin a mirage of ever changing pock-marks and sores, his hair long gone, and the insanity that had crept into him from the extended torture, he was more convinced than ever that he wasn't fit to be someone's SoulMate. He was broken. Ruined. What little goodness about him that had stuck around was gone.

More ruthless than ever, he cut down anyone and everyone associated with the group that had taken what little he'd had away from him. He also took on more mercenary work now than ever. He was even more picky now than before, though, taking on cases that targeted only those that he deemed worthy of death, even if those paying him should be killed too. The rest were non-lethal cases, though he took his pleasure in making as big of a mess and commotion as possible while he carried out his jobs.

His new moniker – Deadpool – quickly spread. Ruthless, efficient, insane. Anyone remotely connected to his line of business knew who to go to when they needed a job done quickly. He was the best in the business, even if he was the most insane mercenary out there. He also didn't hide who Deadpool was under the mask. Let them know what he'd become, never let Wade Wilson completely fade into the background of the person who'd become Deadpool. He was Deadpool, and even if he wasn't fit to be someone's SoulMate, if he ever had been to start, he was still Wade Winston Wilson and he wasn't about to let anyone forget that.

In the back of his mind, though, he knew that part of him was still driven by the idea of his SoulMate. If he was bad enough, insane enough...then maybe he could now protect his SoulMate from who he'd become by simply being someone people avoided talking to with any kindness.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took so long. To be honest I just didn't have the motivation to finish. I had all the ideas and the bones of the chapter, but getting around to fleshing it out was just...yeah. Anyway, I'm still not happy with this, but I'm not disgusted by it either. I do know that the chapter is open ended and leaves more room for development, but as of now this is where this story ends. Maybe if I get the motivation again I'll write a follow-up where they get to know each other, but for now *shrug* this is it.
> 
> Hope ya'll enjoy and thanks for sticking this out with me.

It was a fairly routine evening, as far as it could be what with his Spiderman activities in the evening hours of the day. Since becoming Spiderman, Peter had noticed that there was a slow but noticeable decline in petty crime, but there were still a good number of people out there who turned to it. People who felt that they had no where else to turn but to crime to get by, or people who held such hatred or anger with the world that they saw no issue with hurting other people. With them still out there, he continued to hit the streets regularly.

A bank robbery had been attempted that night, fairly typical but easily diverted, and he'd stopped a few muggings while also giving out the last few dollars in his wallet to one of the muggers who was actually a homeless guy.

Things started to get more exciting in the twilight hours of the night, though. His heightened hearing and spider-sense (as he'd started to call it) had caught onto a crime in the works across town, sending him immediately swinging through the buildings. It sounded, from what he could hear, to be between “bad guys”, but even still he didn't condone violence for the sake of violence and he knew all to well how easily it was for civilians to get caught in the cross fire of two people fighting it out.

Coming to a stop on a roof top, he strained his ears to hear better. Everything had gone quiet again, though he hadn't thought it was possible for the fight to be finished before he got there. He had gotten rather quick and proficient with his web-slinging after all and it hadn't been overly far he hadn't thought.

The sound of loose gravel shifting behind him sent his spider-senses panicking. Twisting around without further thought, Peter couldn't help but suck in a breath at the sight of the masked person across from him. Dressed in all red and black (leather instead of spandex), the man look intimidating and threatening with swords strapped on his back and guns holstered at his sides. Without thinking, just reacting to the danger that rolled off the guy in spades, Peter kicked out just as he realized that the guy was talking.

“Hello, I'm Dead -”

With the kick landing, the masked guy was suddenly tumbling off the roof, arms pinwheeling violently and mask looking (somehow) surprised. The words cut off, and a sinking feeling started in Peter's stomach as he watched the man fall off the roof, tumbling towards the ground in an ungraceful freefall.

Without thinking, Peter quickly launched himself after the guy, knowing that he wouldn't make it in time. Using his webs, he lowered himself as quickly and safely as he could (perhaps still a bit recklessly, but if you asked his Aunt May, that was just Peter all around). By the time he reached the bottom, the guy had already hit, the wet thunk of his body meeting concrete ringing in Peter's ears. He'd killed his SoulMate. He, Spider-Man and Peter Parker, had killed his SoulMate who had apparently been trying to introduce themselves to him.

“Oh Shunk! Are you okay?” The words tumbled from Peter's lips, even as he realized that of course he wasn't. There was no way that anyone could have survived that fall, not unless they had the ability to fly.

Or some really good healing powers apparently...

* * *

Wade had found himself in Queens on a job without even realizing why. He tended to try and stay out of cities with known vigilantes or super-heros residing close by, but the job had been too good to pass up. A guy who was based in Queens was spear heading a group that was trafficking young children for purposes that he'd rather not think about. It had been a no brainer to him, to take the job. Not only was he going to be getting rid of one more creepy monster (on the inside, not a monster on the outside like Wade had become), but the pay was good.

The guy had put up a fight, which Wade appreciated. There was nothing worse than when they blubbered and begged or tried to bribe their way out of their fate. Perhaps he'd been a bit too loud, happily arguing back, because he'd attracted attention. By the time that he'd finished off the guy – opting to ditch the guns for a more satisfying application of blade against throat – he'd found that he had company only a building away. Standing there, head tilted to the side as if listening for something while a masked face seemed to scan the area in front of him, was who Wade assumed was Spiderman.

The guy was thin, athletically so, but still smaller than Wade would have initially thought. Dressed in tight spandex, Wade couldn't help but admire the red and blue design while at the same time wincing at how little protection the man's suit actually offered him. Seriously. Spandex? What superhero or vigilante would have thought that it was a good idea to get into fights while only wearing what amounted to a thin, spandex body-suit? Other than Spiderman.

Wade had to admit a certain admiration for the guy, though.

Spiderman was an obviously augmented individual, be it by nature or design. From what Wade and read and heard, the guy could do some serious damage if he really wanted to. He was quiet, quick, and a surprisingly good fighter even if a bit dirty and under-trained. A few people in Wade's circle had noted that the guy would make a good Mercenary if it wasn't for his high moral code and dislike of killing or really violence in general. Spiderman, if he would stop fighting defensively almost exclusively and picked up some offensive fighting skills, would have the ability to take down any target he wanted. Instead he turned all of that power into doing _good_.

Smoothing down invisible wrinkles in his own suit, Wade tried to preen the best he could as he approached the neighborhood Spider. No reason to be impolite when the guy had already come all this way.

“Hello, I'm Dead-” Wade's words were cut off short when Spiderman himself spun around almost as if panicked and kicked out. Despite the lack of real shoe, the kick hit surprisingly hard, sending Wade pinwheeling off the roof as the breath was knocked from his lungs.

Falling was exhilarating, really. He'd always thought so. Granted he use to like it when he had a parachute to go along with the fall, but now...there was something almost freeing knowing that there was nothing to catch him as he fell other than the ground itself. The impact always hurt, a brief flash of pain that overload every other pain within his body. Then followed the sense of relief, his brain unable to handle the overloaded senses and shutting down as a peaceful feeling fell over him. Inevitably now, though, would come the waking moment thought.

Pain would wake him up again, bones not held together properly, his head leaning unnaturally on his body.

This time though...this time was different. As the world filtered back into focus, it was accompanied by a soft exhale of words, even more gentle fingers, and the face of what looked to be an angel hovering over him.

“Oh Shunk! Are you okay?”

Spiderman was a brunette and apparently had removed his mask without thinking about it. Large doe-eyes started down at him with worry and spandex covered fingers fluttered against his neck like butterflies.

Already Wade could feel his bones fixing themselves, sickening pops coming as joints realigned themselves and bones knitted back together. With each pop, the guy above him would flinch, but all Wade could think about was that _this was it_. His SoulMate was an angel, and honest to god angel who wanted to try and fix the world one criminal at a time.

“Hello, I'm Deadpool.” Wade decided to introduce himself again. “You can call me Wade Wilson. I'm your SoulMate and if you want I'll burn down the world for you to get rid of anyone bad.”

Above him the guy seemed to sink in on himself, eyes still wide and a nervous laugh escaping slightly chapped lips. “Ah...Hi, I'm Peter...Peter Parker.” The brunette stumbled through the words, eyes shifting and hands still fluttering about. “I'd really prefer you not to burn the world down...but maybe we could go get tacos sometime instead and you could just...stop killing people?”

Wade could do that, he definitely could do that. No more killing people didn't mean that he could carefully dispose of them in other ways and he'd feed this angel all the tacos he could want. After all, Wade had been stowing away money to take care of the guy and he figured he had enough to keep Peter in tacos for at least the next decade.


End file.
